Hazardous to Your Health
by Marika Webster
Summary: What happens when Omi borrows and Yoji's car and tries his first cigarette? Mayhem and Chaos of course! Rating for language. Enjoy!


A/N I don't know exactly where this came from, but I hope you enjoy it! 

  
  


Disclaimer: Not mine. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


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Hazardous to Your Health

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"It's only for a few hours, Yoji." Omi reasoned with his friend. He held up one hand and ticked off his defense. "I've never had an accident, I'm insured on yours but not Aya's, I made the highest score out of anyone on my driving test AND in driver's ed class. And most importantly, would you REALLY want to ruin the only chance I might have to get laid before I turn 18?" 

  
  


That was the clincher and Omi knew it, even as Yoji's eyes narrowed. To Yoji, getting laid was what it was all about. Omi's blue eyes widened a fraction as he heard the older man's sigh of relent. When Yoji spoke at last, his voice held an obvious tone of doubt tinged with worry. "I swear to God Omi, if there's one scratch on it, your dead."

  
  


"Thank you, Yoji! You won't regret this... I swear." Omi grasped for the keys that were dangling so precariously in Yoji's hand, just above his head. 

  
  


The blonde assassin held them just out of reach. "I want it back no later than 1 am. You got that?" 

  
  


"Yeah, yeah, 1 am." Omi snatched the keys and grinned happily, intent on making his escape before Yoji had the chance to reconsider. "I promise. 1 am. No damage." 

  
  


~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

  
  


Aya blinked. "You did what?" 

  
  


Yoji groaned in obvious discomfort as he shove yet another tulip into the arrangement he was butchering. "I loaned Omi my car for his dance tonight." 

  
  


A slow smile spread over Aya's face, a rare sound following it. "You must be joking." 

  
  


Yoji paused. Was that... laughter? Sure enough, Aya was cackling. Not small giggles... but full blown spasms of glee. "It's not that bad... I hope." 

  
  


Aya cleared his throat, struggling to regain his composure. "Right, Yoji. We'll just wait until he gets home and see." 

  
  


~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

  
  


Omi slid behind the wheel of the great Car-sama and slid the key into the ignition. He twisted it and was instantly rewarded with the hum of the well-maintained engine. There were two things in life Yoji simply could not live without. Women and his car. Omi drew in a deep breath, sending up yet another prayer to Kamisama that he would get it home as well as he'd promised. His litany of excuses had convinced Yoji... but was that really enough? 

  
  


Half an hour later, he pulled into the driveway of 1407 Lamasca Blvd. Hikari was waiting. He straightened his tie and checked that his hair was tame. Check. He looked good if he did say so himself. 

  
  


Omi exited the car and mentally rehearsed what he would say as he approached the door. *You're looking gorgeous tonight, Hikari-chan. No... too formal. Hey baby... looking good. No... too.... Yoji.* Omi released a heavy sigh and raised his hand to knock on the door. It opened immediately to reveal his date. 

  
  


There was only one problem. His date was clad in a bathrobe and a pair of well-worn fuzzy slippers. He blinked. "Hikari-chan..." 

  
  


His loss for words was instantly squashed when an expression of remorse slid over her petite face. "Omi-kun, didn't you get my message?" 

  
  


"Message?" He repeated blankly, realizing his night just took a turn for the worse. 

  
  


"Hai, I left a message with Aya-san. He must have forgotten to give it to you. I can't go to the dance I'm afraid. The doctor says it's measles." 

  
  


"Measles?" Omi realized now that he was 2 for 2 on the eloquence part of this evening. 

  
  


"Hai. I'm still contagious, so you should go. I hope that when I'm better you'll let me make it up to you." 

  
  


Omi sighed inwardly but pasted a bright smile on his face. "Hai. Of course, Hikari-chan. I hope you feel better soon." Omi extended the flowers to her and favored her with his brightest smile. As he started the car again, he bit his lower lip. Measles. His first school dance where he'd actually had the courage to ask someone... and she had measles. Dammit.

  
  


He carefully pulled out of the driveway and into the street, wondering just what to do with himself then. If he came home so soon, he was sure to hear it... not just from Yoji and Ken, but even Aya would surely find some way to tease without saying a word. Omi sighed, leaning to switch on the radio. He paused when his hand encountered a small rectangular box. Bringing it into his line of vision he realized what it was, Yoji must have left a pack of cigarettes in the car. Omi sighed yet again, it was becoming a habit. With a flippant shrug he tapped one free from the pack and slid it between his lips. 

  
  


What was all the fuss about? Didn't these things kill you? He paused as he fumbled with the lighter, the convertible weaving dangerously in his lane. He lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply. Immediately his lungs felt as though someone had lit a match and set him to burn from the inside out. And that was just before his gag reflex kicked in. He coughed, spasming harder than he had the last time he had the flu as his body struggled to expel the toxins. He grimaced and tossed the still burning cigarette out the window, blue eyes widening as he watched it fly back in. 

  
  


"Shit!" He wrenched the wheel sharply to the side, all thoughts of the lingering physical discomfort forgotten. The wheel connected with the curb and he at last came to a stop. Omi released a singular sob and scrambled from the still running vehicle. He peered into the backseat. Where had it gone? He could smell it. 

  
  


There were no telltale signs of smoke or flames coming from the backseat. He blinked and leaned over, looking closer. Where was it? At last he grinned triumphantly as the cigarette fell free from somewhere within what he assumed was the confines of the car. He stamped on it vigorously, feeling incredibly lucky. Omi drew in a deep breath as he slid behind the wheel once more. But that smell... it was still there. Damn it all. He glanced over his shoulder, a flicker of smoke entering his line of vision. What was going on? 

  
  


He climbed free once more and heaved a sigh of frustration. Where was it? The burning part what had Yoji called it... that was right, the cherry, must have dropped free somehow. And it was still in the vehicle... that meant. "My ass is grass." Omi yelped and flipped the switch, leaning the seat forward, peering into the depths of the roadster once more. Once again, no flames... only... that smell. He sniffed the floorboard. No, that wasn't it. Where was it coming from?" 

  
  


Omi growled, his frustration mounting as he analyzed the scent. It was sweet. Like a fibre, but it wasn't the car, that much was obvious. He glanced around himself as though seeking help. Where was the smell coming from? He knelt down on the curb, forehead to the ground. The hood of his jacket fell forward, covering his face. There it was again, closer this time. Omi cracked one eye, seeing a suspicious growing ring of orange. There it was. No... wait... that was HIM. He was on fire. Blue eyes widened in instant panic. He tore the jacket off and rose, stomping his feet on it for a full minute before he decided it was finally safe to pick up the trampled article of clothing. 

  
  


He stared at the hole in dismay. Great. His favorite jacket... ruined. Omi growled and sniffed it for confirmation. Yup. There it was again, that sickly sweet smell. The cigarette stench and cherry scented burn... stuff he'd been subjected to. Omi sighed and tossed the jacket into the car, checking to make certain it was out this time. He glared at the offending pack of cigarettes and crumpled them, tossing them from the car as he pealed away from the curb. This was just flaming perfect. The perfect end to a perfect night. Yoji would have a fit. 

  
  


Omi shook his head. He would never, EVER light a cigarette again as long as he lived. However long that might be when Yoji discovered the burn mark on the passenger seat. Wait... burn mark? Omi swerved again, scrambling to pat out the flames. It was a full five terror-filled minutes before he realized that it was indeed out this time... for real. For really real. Omi at last broke down, laying his head on the steering wheel and sobbing. He was dead.

  
  


~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

  
  


"Omi... back so soon?" Yoji grinned at his young teammate as the red-head darted by. 

  
  


The youngster tossed the car keys to Yoji, his head bowed as he retreated to his room. His door slamming with a resounding thud. Yoji heard the distinct click. "Well?" Aya's voice drifted up the stairs. 

  
  


"He was barely gone an hour." Yoji frowned. "I wonder what happened?" 

  
  


"That's easy." Aya ascended the stairs, coming face to face with the perturbed blonde. "His date got sick, but by the time I got the call, he'd already left." 

"So... that's it then?" Yoji resisted the urge to hug his keys. "At least my baby's back. I'll run down to the ice-cream shop and pick him up some of that mint-chocolate chip ice cream he's so fond of. Maybe he'll fell better after that. You want anything?" 

  
  


Aya shook his head and disappeared into the living room. Yoji shrugged and headed for the door. 

  
  


~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

  
  


Omi heard the steps before his door began to rattle from the force of Yoji's pounding. "OMI, YOU ARE DEAD! YOU HEAR ME! DEAD!" 

  
  


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Owari

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End file.
